


The Best Things Come Unexpectedly

by nothingisreal



Category: GP2 Series RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-05 17:11:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12798744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingisreal/pseuds/nothingisreal
Summary: He was just supposed to play football, do some interviews and go home. Nobody's mentioned anything about being seduced by Charles Leclerc.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first language, no beta  
> I think I might add a chapter or two to this later on but I'm not sure yet.

“Let me blow you.”

Mick pauses with his T-shirt halfway up his chest, blinks at the wall in front of him, then pulls the fabric back down his body. He can’t have understood that right. It must be something to do with the French that’s spoken in Monaco, maybe there’s a second meaning to this that Mick has missed. Or maybe he’s just misheard, an honest mistake that’s very easy to clear up.

Mick looks around the room, some of the guys are still getting changed after the game but he suspects none of them speak French well enough to understand what could quickly become one of the strangest conversations Mick’s ever been part of. He does a half turn to face Charles with what he hopes is a neutral expression. “Pardon?”

Charles doesn’t look like he’s just said what Mick thinks he’s said. He looks very inconspicuous, like they are just having a chat about cars or girls or… whatever it is people expect them to talk about. “I wanna blow you.” He repeats calmly.

“Oh my God…” Mick digs the heels of his palms in his eyes. “What the fuck? Why?” He opens his eyes to Charles staring at him intensely. He pointedly looks up and down Mick’s body, eyebrows raised, then licks his lips.

Mick makes a sound that’s very close to something resembling a whimper and he’ll forever deny that. “Oh my God…” He repeats, but this time his voice is lower, deeper.

Okay, to be honest he _has_ thought about Charles like that, on several occasions and with graphic details, but can anyone blame him? Despite what some people seem to believe he _is_ only human. And seventeen years old on top of that! Not to mention that in his mind you’d have to be dead not to find Charles at least mildly attractive.

Charles nods a goodbye at someone over Mick’s shoulder, Mick can’t force himself to stop staring at Charles to see who it is, and then his eyes focus back on Mick’s face, his smile soft but there’s such heat in his gaze that Mick shivers.

“You probably shouldn’t say shit like that when there are people around.” Mick says quietly, his voice only a bit wobbly despite how shook up he feels inside. “Someone might understand and think you’re being serious.”

Charles shrugs. “We’re alone now.”

Mick widens his eyes, looks around again, and true to Charles’s words they are the only ones still in the changing rooms. Mick suddenly feels self-conscious that he’s still wearing the black and white T-shirt and shorts, soaked with sweat, the adrenaline high he’s been on since this afternoon slowly dissipating, and he’d kill for a shower in that moment, better still a bath, because he can already tell he’s going to be sore tomorrow, his muscles aching after hours of running around.

“And I _am_ being serious.” Charles adds and Mick freezes again. Then he starts chuckling.

“Right. Of course.” He says as he reaches down to where he’s thrown his clothes onto the bench, because suddenly he doesn’t feel like changing where he is, feels way too exposed already with how Charles is watching his every move. Charles’s fingers wrap around his wrist before he can pick them up though.

“I mean it.” He says.

Mick’s skin feels as if it was burning under Charles’s touch and, caught off-guard, he lets himself be pulled forward and then is so surprised by their sudden closeness that he forgets to pull away. Charles is staring at his lips but when he looks up, into Mick’s eyes, his face softens as he smiles reassuringly. “I mean it.” He repeats slowly, willing Mick to believe him. “And I really want to.” He adds and his gaze falls on Mick’s lips again, almost unwittingly. He catches himself, looks up again.

Mick is sure his mouth is hanging open and he’s breathing shallowly as his brain struggles to process the words. It’s not everyday that Mick gets told by other people that they want to have sex with him. Especially not people that look like Charles! It’s happened exactly one time… if you count right now, of course. So excuse him for not knowing what to do about it.

Charles is surprisingly patient (or maybe he just really wants to do it, and Mick shouldn’t have thought that because now he’s uncomfortably aware of just how much Charles is affecting him and if Charles pulls him any closer, he will be too and then Mick will have to change his name and move to Madagascar), settling for slipping his fingers up Mick’s wrist, until they’re kind of holding hands, and rubbing his thumb over Mick’s palm.

Mick thinks he must look very much like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights when Charles moves in closer - Mick thanks every single god he knows when their hips don’t touch - so close that they’re breathing the same air and then just stops there. Mick realises Charles is probably giving him time to react in some way and Mick low-key hopes that Charles won’t wait for a signal from him or else they might just spend the rest of their lives in that position because there’s no chance in Hell that Mick will do _anything_. He’s glad he at least still remembers how to breathe, anything more than that is beyond his capabilities at the moment.

Thankfully, Charles seems to know that because soon enough he moves even closer, pauses for a second but when Mick still doesn’t step back, Charles closes the distance between them and surprisingly that’s what finally gets Mick to move. Not away, God no! But the feeling of Charles’s lips on his own is _real_ and the realisation that _it’s actually happening_ makes Mick gasp, his hand slipping from Charles’s grasp and moving to grip his biceps as Mick unwittingly deepens the kiss. Charles makes a surprised sound - there’s no way he’s more surprised than Mick though! - but he goes with it, rests his palms on the small of Mick’s back and pulls him closer and… _oh_ …

Mick breaks the kiss with a moan that’s a bit too loud and that thought reminds him that there are journalists swarming not so far from where they are and the press would have a fucking field day with this, he can already see the headlines, what was he even thinking? You don’t get to do stupid shit like this, not with a name like his! He’s been learning that for seventeen years and he thought he knew better. All it takes is for someone to _“get the wrong door”_ or _“accidentally overhear”_ and a couple hundred well-chosen words for both their careers to be over. Charles isn’t an idiot, he must know all that too!

Charles sighs and looks up at the ceiling, his hands falling from Mick’s body as he moves away and suddenly Mick feels cold and… _disappointed_? Charles walks over to the door and Mick wants to remind him that he should probably at least get changed before he leaves, people might ask questions - and has he always been this paranoid? He doesn’t think so…?

But Charles only turns the lock and then looks at Mick questioningly and Mick knows what he’s asking, nods before he can think about it too much and freak himself out.  He remembers vividly those few short seconds when Charles’s hips pressed against his own and he suddenly didn’t know why he was so scared, it felt _good_ and he wants to feel it again. “Yeah.” He says - an answer to Charles’s unasked question but also a reassurance for himself - and his voice sounds rough. He doesn’t miss the way Charles’s eyes darken as he comes closer.

He lets himself be pushed down onto one of the benches, Charles hovering over him, bending down to kiss him again, straddling Mick’s thighs as he lowers himself, even though he doesn’t rest his whole weight on the German, it’s almost as if he was just aiming for one small kiss but then couldn’t make himself pull away.

“Fuck…” Charles laughs breathlessly against his lips, pulls back a bit more when Mick unconsciously follows him, trying to kiss him again. “No time.” He explains, presses one quick kiss to Mick’s lips and then stands up, his hands still on Mick’s shoulder and Mick’s legs between his. “You totally deserve to do this on a bed in a hotel room but I really don’t think I can survive waiting any longer.” He smiles almost shyly, his cheeks red - from arousal more than embarrassment, Mick guesses - as he runs his fingers through Mick’s hair before reaching down and grabbing the hem of his T-shirt. “Up.” He says, drags the fabric up Mick’s torso and then over his head when Mick raises his arms.

Charles hummes in the back of his throat, his eyes running up and down Mick’s chest and it doesn’t even make Mick feel shy anymore, it just makes him want to pull Charles down on top of him and… yeah, he isn’t _quite_ sure what, there are so many things he can think of.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about this all evening.” Charles starts speaking again and Mick makes a weak sound when Charles moves away, sinks to his knees in front of him. “Maybe longer than that.” He laughs as he spreads Mick’s legs, runs his fingers up Mick’s thighs, slips them under Mick’s shorts. His tongue swipes up the inside of Mick’s thigh and Mick’s breath catches when Charles bites at the sensitive skin there.

Charles looks up at him questioningly as his fingers come up to the waistband of Mick’s shorts. Mick doesn’t bother answering, just pushes the fabric down past his hips and Charles hums appreciatively, leans forward to lick at Mick’s abs before he puts his palm flat on Mick’s sternum and pushes him back until Mick gets the message and lies down.

“I wish we had more time.” Charles says as his fingers wrap around Mick. “Guess I’ll have to make up for it later.”

Mick wants to ask what he means, but then Charles goes back to sucking on his skin, his teeth scraping over Mick’s hipbone, and he decides it’s not important, he can ask later. His fingers tangle in Charles’s hair, pull at it accidently when Charles’s strokes him faster. He can _feel_ Charles’s smirk more than actually see it when Mick makes a needy sound, his hips bucking.

He gets the impression that Charles is enjoying teasing him, maybe would do it for the rest of the night if he could but, as he’s said, they’re a bit short on time, they’ve taken way too long already, not that either of them cares too much in that moment, but it doesn’t change the facts and they _really_ need to hurry up.

“Charles.” Mick tugs at his hair and Charles finally detaches his mouth from Mick’s waist, shifts on his knees until he’s closer, and then his hand is gone for a second before he rests both his palms on Mick’s thighs, digs his fingers into the skin there.

“I _really_ wish we had more time.” He repeats his words from earlier with a heavy sigh.

Mick can kind of see where he’s coming from but can’t honestly say he shares the sentiment because if they did have more time, he’d probably just _die_ from arousal. He’s already so turned on, it’s almost painful. And it doesn’t look like Charles would stop teasing anytime soon if he didn’t have to.

He wonders what it’d be like if they didn’t have to be quick, if they had all the time in the world to do this. Charles would probably start by kissing him, stroking his cock until he was gasping and arching up off the bed. He’d undress him slowly, licking every inch of his body as he went, biting at his skin gently. And he wouldn’t let Mick touch him, would make him keep his hands up against the headboard, so that Charles was in complete control. He’d touch Mick everywhere except for where he wanted to be touched the most. He’d tease him, draw it out until Mick was just a whimpering mess beneath him, until he felt like he was going out of his head…

He’s yanked back to the present moment when Charles wraps his lips around him and Mick hears himself moan his name. He raises his head so that he can glance at Charles but it’s too much, the sight of Charles on his knees with Mick’s cock in his mouth making his stomach tighten, so he looks up towards the ceiling, tries his best not to make too much noise but it’s really difficult because _Charles Leclerc is going down on him in a fucking changing room_! It sounds like something out of his fantasies but it’s real, it’s actually happening and that’s just as mind blowing as the act itself.

Charles takes him deeper, almost all the way in, and Mick has to focus really hard so that his hips don’t thrust up. “Fuck… how are you so good at this?” He gasps out and Charles pulls off to grin at him.

“It’s a blowjob, I’d have to be really bad at it for it _not_ to feel good.” Mick thinks there’s an implied ‘especially if it’s your first’ somewhere in there but he really can’t bring himself to care, doesn’t even protest. Especially when Charles doesn’t say anything else, just swallows Mick down again.

Charles hands move up Mick’s thighs, onto his arse and he squeezes it, urges Mick to move his hips up. Mick’s reluctant at first but Charles moans happily around him and then it’s just a knee-jerk reaction he can’t stop when his hips buck. He apologises quickly, isn’t quite sure in what language, doesn’t think it matters too much because as soon as he calms down he realises that Charles _likes it_ which is something Mick can’t imagine - to him it just seems incredibly uncomfortable and possibly a bit painful too but then he’s never sucked anybody off so he _could_ be wrong. He thinks he might be willing to find out if he is though…

The first few thrusts are shallow, he still isn’t sure how he feels about doing this, but Charles just takes it, closes his eyes and pushes Mick’s hips forward, coaxes him to fuck his mouth and then Mick feels like he barely has any control over his hips anymore as the tip of his cock brushes against the back of Charles’s throat and he doesn’t know how he manages not to come right then.

“Charles, Charles- oh… You-” He cuts himself with a moan when Charles’s only reaction to his babbling is to push Mick’s hips down, hold them firmly to prevent him from moving as Charles sinks down and swallows around him and Mick makes a broken sound - too loud but he really doesn’t give a fuck in that moment - and comes down Charles’s throat.

Charles is laughing when he gets up, straddles Mick’s hips where he’s splayed out on the bench.

“Fuck off.” Mick mutters tiredly, his arm over his eyes. The waistband of his shorts is still around his thighs and maybe he should feel more self-conscious about Charles being on top of him when he’s practically naked, Charles’s bum brushing against his softening cock, but it’s all because of Charles anyway so what’s the point.

“My room or yours? You care?” Charles asks and he sounds like he’s spent the whole day shouting, his voice hoarse and rough and it takes Mick a second to realise that _it’s because of him_ and that makes him glance at Charles but then he can’t look away because Charles looks _wrecked_. His hair is a fucking mess - Mick finally gets what sex hair means - and his lips are red, his cheeks flushed and Mick remembers that he hasn’t come yet when his hard-on brushes against Mick’s stomach through the two layers of fabric and Mick’s mouth falls open.

His fingers wrap around the waistband of Charles’s shorts. “Can I…?” The question is mostly rhetoric but he still waits for Charles's nod before he tugs them down Charles’s legs, just below his bum. He swallows audibly when he sees Charles’s cock and he gets the impression that it really won’t take much to get him off. He’s probably not wrong judging from the way Charles moans when Mick wraps his fingers around him or from how Mick’s thumb comes away wet with precum when he swipes it over the tip.

“So?” Charles gasps, his hips bucking forward.

“So what?” Mick asks, not even bothering to look up at Charles’s face, fixated on the way he can see the muscles in Charles’s thighs tense and on how there’s precum gathering at the tip of his cock, drops of it glistening on Mick’s own hand and Mick wonders what Charles tastes like - his mouth watering at the very thought - whether the noises he’d make if Mick had his mouth on him would sound even better, how much it’d take to make him lose control, come undone beneath Mick, _because of_ him.

“Whose room?”

Mick does look up at that. Is Charles suggesting what Mick thinks he is?

“Sex.” Charles laughs and it’s breathless and Mick looks down again because now Charles isn’t holding back anymore, is just fucking into Mick’s fist, soft noises spilling from his lips and the sight of it makes Mick think of another thing they could do, someday, and the thought makes him shiver. He’s never thought about it before, not like this but now that he has… “I mean sex.”

Mick smiles. He didn’t think he’d be getting anything more than that one blowjob… Scratch that - he didn’t think he’d be getting a blowjob. He was just supposed to kick a ball around for an hour then go to the hotel (to his own room! alone!) and leave the next day.

He’s a bit tired but it’s nothing a quick nap couldn’t fix and he’d have to be absolutely bonkers to pass up the opportunity for more sex with Charles. Charles is asking Mick to go back to his hotel room with him - is there really any doubt what the answer will be?

He finds himself nodding eagerly, his free hand slipping under Charles’s T-shirt, tracing over his stomach and then sliding back and down, onto Charles’s arse as Mick strokes him quicker and then Charles is coming over his wrist and fingers, gasping his name and Mick wasn’t prepared for how much this would turn him on.

Mick wipes his hand on his own shorts, groans when Charles bends down to kiss him, still coming down from his orgasm. “We’ll start with a bath.” Charles laughs against Mick’s lips, kisses him again. Mick really loves the idea. A hot bath would be lovely but a hot bath with a naked Charles in it… he isn’t sure he could get hard again so quickly but if he keeps thinking about it he might very well find out.

Mick hates having to do this but they seriously need to get out of there like… fifteen minutes ago, so he pushes at Charles’s shoulder to get him to back off. Charles whines but then nods reluctantly. “Fine.” He mutters as he gets up, kicks his shorts off… with his underwear… and pulls his T-shirt over his head and Mick just stares at him in astonishment because he wasn’t expecting this, and he still hasn’t moved when Charles starts pulling his clothes on, starting with jeans and he’s going commando now and Mick’s brain short-circuits for a moment. “Where the fuck did I put my shirt?” Charles mutters to himself, hands on hips and Mick shakes his head, finally stands up.

Charles manages to locate his shirt just as Mick finishes changing which means Mick gets a few beautiful seconds to just lean against the wall with his arms crossed and stare at Charles’s torso. Then Charles pulls his T-shirt down and Mick shakes himself off, straightens up.

Mick clears his throat when Charles sits down to put on his shoes. “So… are we going to talk about how you’ve obviously done this before?”

“No.” Charles replies curtly.

“No, you haven’t?” Mick raises his eyebrows because even with his (very) limited experience he can tell that’s evidently bullshit.

“No, we’re not.” Charles smirks, glances at Mick before looking back down at his shoelaces. “But I bet you’d love to know.” He chuckles and then widens his eyes, grins as realization hits him. “You know him, actually.”

Mick furrows his brows, cocks his head to the side, glares at Charles a bit. He knows a lot of people, many of them male, so this piece of information really isn’t much help. Charles’s smirk widens.

“One more hint. You might get to know him even better next year if everything goes well for you.” He wrinkles his nose. “But not so well for him, I guess.” He adds with a small shrug as he finishes tying his shoes.

Mick just stares at him blankly, trying to make a mental list of all the _guys he knows that he could get to know better next year if everything goes well for him… but not so well for them_ and what the fuck does that even mean?!

“I don’t get it.”

Charles shrugs, one corner of his mouth drawn up, and pats Mick on the shoulder. “That’s the point. It’ll probably come to you. Maybe in a couple of months?”

And then he turns around and strolls outside with a loud laugh, leaving Mick standing there, still trying to figure it out before he decides to give it a rest for the time being as he follows Charles outside. Maybe he could get a name out of him? After all he has the whole night and he’s pretty sure that with the right… _motivation_ , Charles would happily babble away all his secrets…


	2. Chapter 2

Mick’s nerves grow the closer to the hotel they get. He doesn’t know why he’s anxious. Well, he knows why but logically he thinks he shouldn’t be. He wants to do this - whatever _this_ would mean - and it’s not like Charles would ever pressure him into anything he didn’t want to do 100%. But maybe it’s the whole problem - how much he wants this. It freaks him out if he’s being honest. If he knew this was going to happen, he would have mentally prepared himself - as much as you can mentally prepare yourself for something like this - but he didn’t see it coming. Which was also a good thing, he supposes, everything happened so quickly he didn’t have time to freak out properly. But it looks like he’s making up for it now because his palms are sweating and he’s about to start hyperventilating and he can’t stop talking, even though he doesn’t even know what he’s saying and he’s trying to calm himself down by making terrible jokes and he notices halfway to the hotel that the corners of Charles’s mouth are twitching.

“Mick. Calm down.” He says, somehow managing not to laugh, which Mick really appreciates. He jumps when there’s a hand on his, shoots a nervous look at the driver in the front seat but doesn’t pull away. “He can’t see it.” Charles whispers, in French for a good measure, even though it’s quite possible that the guy can speak it too but then not quite as possible as with English.

Mick nods, rests his head against his seat and turns to face the window, closes his eyes, and lets Charles’s voice calm him down, their clasped hands rested on the seat between them.

 

***

 

“What do you wanna do?” Charles asks when the door closes behind them and Mick whips his head around to look at him with wide eyes, mouth hanging open. “I meant in general. Food? Bath? _Something else_?” The last one is said suggestively, Charles can’t stop himself from glancing at Mick’s lips longingly.

Mick takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before turning to face Charles fully. “How about that bath?” He smiles and that makes his shoulders loosen up a bit. Charles returns the smile, points towards another door.

“The bathroom’s all yours.”

Mick bites his lip and hesitates for a beat before slowly walking in that direction, his hips swinging a bit more than usually, he pauses by the door, one hand on the knob, and smiles at Charles over his shoulder. “Join me?” And then, without waiting for a reply, pushes the door open, Charles’s surprised gasp making him chuckle quietly.

He’s only wearing his underwear when Charles finally seems to get over the shock and follow him into the bathroom. He glances down but catches himself quickly and looks back up, but when he sees that Mick doesn’t mind, is beginning to enjoy the attention he’s getting, he allows himself to stare openly, his gaze moving up and down Mick’s body, taking in every detail.

“Like what you see?” Mick asks, his fingers moving to the waistband of his briefs and he waits until he’s sure Charles has followed the movement before he pushes the fabric down, kicks it off.

He’s half-hard again, even though they have barely touched since they left the stadium unless you count the hand holding, and Charles tongue swipes over his lips quickly as a smile slowly spreads on his face. “Damn, Mick. You just…” He doesn’t know how to finish that sentence but he doesn’t have to because Mick knows what he means, it’s the same way Charles makes him feel.

“You’re a bit overdressed for a bath.” Mick smirks, steps into the half-full tub and lowers himself slowly, moaning when the hot water immediately helps his tired muscles loosen up.

“Not that I’m complaining but what’s happened to you?” Charles asks, throws his T-shirt onto the floor. “You were terrified just moments ago.”

Mick shrugs. He can see the bulge in Charles’s jeans and the flush slowly creeping onto his skin so it’s not like Charles minds. “Anticipation is the worst I guess. Not that I’m not nervous anymore.”

Charles pauses with his jeans unbuttoned to smile at Mick softly. “Mick…” He shakes his head with a small laugh, finally takes off his trousers and then he’s sitting down behind Mick - who quickly turns the taps when the level of water rises even more - so that Mick is between his legs, his back against Charles’s chest. Charles presses kisses to Mick’s back and shoulders, can’t stop himself, and Mick makes an appreciative sound, relaxes even more.

“We only go as far you want, yeah?” Charles whispers against his ear. “We can stop at any time. Hell, we can just watch TV if you don’t want to do anything.”

Mick nods then shakes his head. “I want-”

“No.” Charles cuts him off, wraps his arms around Mick’s chest from behind and pulls him closer. Mick gaps when Charles’s half-hard cock presses against his lower back and he shifts without even realising he’s doing this, pushes back before Charles grabs his hips and still them. “Tell me later, okay?”

Mick nods, leans back and lets Charles hold up his weight and this is nice, he could happily stay like this the whole night. Except he can feel Charles’s cock and it’s making him think _things_ and maybe Charles can control himself better or maybe he’s still recovering from his first orgasm (which Mick really doubts, it’s been _at least_ half an hour) but Mick is almost fully hard now and he’d really like this to go somewhere.

Charles’s hands leave his hips and move down his legs, stroking the skin lazily and he’s pressing those little kisses all over Mick’s back and neck and Mick doesn’t know if he wants to sleep or fuck but he feels like he’s melting under Charles’s fingers and lips.

“You’re loud.” He can feel Charles’s smirk against his spine, and he makes a confused noise, his brain refusing to do any more work than it has to. “You were pretty loud earlier too.”

Mick doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say to this so he doesn’t reply, just closes his eyes and lets Charles touch soothe him.

 

***

 

He convinces Charles to take a nap first because he’s exhausted and the bath made him relaxed and sleepy and Charles doesn’t even protest, is probably just as tired. They don’t bother getting dressed, only dry themselves off because there’s really no need to leave puddles everywhere.

They lie on their sides facing each other, Charles’s fingers tracing imaginary shapes over Mick’s skin and Mick’s eyes are closing almost against his will. He snuggles closer to Charles, tangles their legs together and Charles laughs into his hair, kisses the top of his head. It’s comfortable and maybe Mick would feel awkward about this if he wasn’t falling asleep but then maybe not, being around Charles is turning out to be pretty comfortable in general. It’s easy, they get along with each other just like that.

Mick thinks about the match, about what happened afterwards, how Charles looked when he came, but also about all the things he wants to do now that they have a hotel room and an actual bed and some privacy…

 

***

 

He wakes up to Charles slipping under the covers beside him and he opens his eyes only a bit unwillingly. He shifts closer to Charles, hides his face in the crook of Charles’s neck. “What time is it?” He asks, his lips brushing against Charles shoulder and Mick feels him shiver, has to smile at that.

“Just past eleven.” Charles replies.

Mick hums in reply, his hand sneaking down Charles’s chest onto his stomach where he stops right at the line of Charles’s hips, on his abdomen and Charles breathing suddenly gets shallow.

“You okay?” Mick asks him as innocently as he can manage with his fingers practically touching Charles’s dick.

Charles’s laugh is slightly higher-pitched than usually. “I didn’t think you’d be such a _tease_.”

Mick raises an eyebrow, even though Charles can’t see his face, a smirk starting in the corners of his mouth. “You’ve thought about this a lot then?” He forces himself to raise his head because he really wants to see the expression on Charles face.

Charles has his mouth half-opened and his brows furrowed. He sighs. “There’s no way to get out of this one, is there?”

Mick shakes his head with a laugh. He puts his palm flat on the bed, either side of Charles’s body and lies half on top of him, their chests touching as they kiss.

Mick suddenly pulls back and looks at Charles with an excited grin, his eyes bright. “Can I give you head?”

“Oh my God…”

Mick bursts out laughing at that. “Just for the record, I do actually want to do that, but it looks like now we’re even.”

“Always give a guy a warning before you tell him you want to suck him off - noted!” Charles smiles. “But to be fair, how did you expect me to do that?”

Mick shrugs. “I don’t know. Pinching my arse, staring at me, flirting with m- hold up.” Mick furrows his brows. “Okay, never mind then. I’m an idiot.”

Charles bursts out laughing. “I’ve been flirting with you the whole day. And staring at you. Sorry for not pinching your arse I guess?” He reaches down to do just that and Mick swats at his hand.

“Fuck off. Can I?”

Charles raises an eyebrow. “You don’t seriously expect me to turn down a blowjob, are you? Especially not from you.”

Mick smiles shyly, his cheeks hot. “Just don’t expect too much. I’ve never done this.”

“You can’t really do it wrong.” Charles smiles at him reassuringly, his hand on Mick’s cheek as he leans in for a kiss. Mick hums happily against Charles’s lips, lets himself got lost in this for a short moment before he pulls away and straddles Charles’s thighs.

He wraps his fingers around Charles’s erection and strokes him - the movement both very familiar and strange at the same time because the angle is wrong and it’s another guy’s dick that he has in his hand. When he did it earlier he was still high off his own orgasm so he didn’t really think about it.

He distracts himself from what he’s about to do by kissing over Charles’s collarbone and down his chest. He licks across one of Charles’s nipples and he didn’t expect it to get a moan out of Charles but it did so he does it again. By the time he’s sucking on the skin of Charles’s hip, Charles is shifting on the bed, precum dripping down Mick’s fingers.

Mick glances up at Charles quickly, his breath catching in his throat at how beautiful he looks like this, doesn’t give himself time to hesitate before licking at the precum gathering at the tip. Charles goes completely still and moans Mick’s name.

Mick plays it safe, mostly just uses his hand to jerk Charles off as he licks over the head of his cock. It doesn’t look like Charles cares too much though, he’s panting like he’s just run a marathon but he’s doing a great job of not moving too much, stops his hips from bucking when Mick finally wraps his lips around the head and sinks down.

Mick hasn’t decided how he feels about giving blowjobs yet but he’s really loving the effect it has on Charles so maybe he sees the appeal of sucking someone off. It’s not like it’s terrible, Mick guesses he could get used to this, maybe learn to enjoy it, but it’s mostly the reactions he’s getting from Charles that make him feel all hot and turned on.

He’s just getting into the rhythm when Charles grips his shoulder. “Oh fuck… Come here, come here…” Mick lets himself be pulled up the bed and then he’s suddenly on his back as Charles climbs on top of him. “Wanna fuck me?”

Mick’s eyes widen but his cock twitches at the same time and Charles can obviously feel that, his arse is practically right on top of it.  

“That’s a yes.”

There’s a small question mark at the end of that sentence but Mick really does want to, even though it freaks him out just a little bit, so he nods. “That’s a yes.”

Charles smiles at him, reaches to the nightstand and picks up a bottle and a condom as Mick stares at him in confusion. “This wasn’t there earlier.” He’s sure of that, he would have noticed!

Charles at least has the decency to blush. “You were asleep for a while, I figured I might as well get stuff… out of my suitcase…” He clears his throat, smears some of the transparent liquid on his fingers.

Mick snorts. There’s a very small possibility that Charles just always carries this stuff around with him but it’s much more probable that he was expecting to get lucky with Mick and does that mean he was thinking about this earlier? Mick needs a second for the thought to sink in.

Mick watches with his lips parted as Charles reaches behind himself, makes a tiny noise and moves his hips. “I’ve forgotten how much I like this.” He admits with a breathless chuckle.

“So you’ve done _this_ before as well?” Mick asks, not because it makes him anxious or jealous or anything, he’s just curious.

Charles looks down then back up at Mick’s face. “You mean have I fingered myself before or have I been fucked before?”

“Both?”

Charles’s chuckle ends in a gasp when he slides another finger inside himself, scissoring them. “Kind of and yes. Once.”

Mick can’t force himself to tear his eyes away from the lower half of Charles’s body, the way he can see the muscles in his arm working. “Oh?” With whom?”

Charles laughs and shakes his head. “Nope. I’m still not telling you.” He pulls his fingers out and leans over the edge of the bed to wipe them on a towel then straightens up, picks up the condom he threw next to Mick’s shoulder earlier.

Mick wants to argue but Charles distracts him very successfully when he rolls the condom down Mick’s erection, gives him a couple of strokes and then shifts so that he’s straddling Mick’s stomach more than his hips, reaches behind himself again to position the tip of Mick’s cock at his entrance and looks at him questioningly. “Okay?”

Mick’s eyes are fixated on where Charles is hovering over his erection so he just nods quickly. “Yeah, come on.”

“Eager.”

Mick doesn’t get a chance to reply to that because Charles is sliding down his cock and suddenly it’s so good and hot and _tight, Jesus_. His fingers are digging into Charles’s thighs as he tries to get his breathing under control and maybe not come before he’s even all the way in, that’d be nice.

Charles moans when Mick bottoms out, splays his fingers on Mick’s chest as he leans over him and kisses at the corner of his mouth. “Fuck, you feel good.”

Mick whimpers. “Don’t! I feel like I’m about to lose it even without you saying shit like this!” He can feel Charles smile against his cheek.

Charles’s lips brush against Mick’s ear when he whispers: “Don’t worry. We have the whole night…” and Mick moans and then Charles shifts his hips, as if testing the waters, and Mick is actually gonna _die_.

But then Charles starts moving slowly and Mick thinks that maybe he can handle this. Charles looks so perfect like this, flushed and breathless, lips parted and eyes unfocused, his cock leaking as he fucks himself on Mick. He said earlier that Mick was loud but he failed to mention that he himself was too, unable to stop the moans from spilling from his lips as he moves faster.

Mick dares to start thrusting up and the angle changes when he shifts his hips and suddenly Charles gasps sharply, giggles as he falls forward and Mick grips his hips, holds them up as he fucks up into Charles. He’s beginning to get a hang of it, he thinks, and he’s still so turned on he doesn’t know how he’s lasted this long but he also wants it to be good for Charles, is really getting off on how he can make him lose control like this.

Charles shifts his weight onto one of his hands, shoves the other between them, his knuckles brushing Mick’s stomach as he jerks himself off. Charles squeezes around him when he gets closer to his orgasm and it’s too much for Mick, who’s been just hanging on by the sheer power of will ever since Charles first sank on his cock, as he starts cumming. Charles isn’t far behind, the last jerky thrusts Mick gives enough to push him over the edge as he cums on Mick’s stomach.

“I think I need a moment.” Mick says when Charles gets off him and they’re both breathless and flushed and Mick wants to do it again _now_.

Mick cringes when Charles throws the condom somewhere on the floor but he’s too tired to actually get up and throw it into a bin. Especially when Charles retrieves the covers from the floor and throws them over the two of them and then snuggles against Mick’s side, his head on Mick’s chest.

“Okay?” He asks and Mick snorts.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking this?”

Charles shrugs, presses a kiss to Mick’s skin, right where his heart is still beating wildly. “Just checking.”

 

***

 

They order some food because they’re starving, football and sex can really make you hungry. And then Charles turns on the TV, lets Mick pick the movie, it’s mostly for his benefit anyway, it’s not like Charles can speak German. They talk about how the season is going for them and about their dreams and then just trade silly stories until Mick can’t take it anymore and kisses Charles and it just goes from there.

Mick asks Charles to fuck him while they’re rutting against each other and suddenly he finds himself being manhandled onto his front, Charles licking down his spine and squeezing his arse. And then Charles’s tongue is _inside him_  and that’s another thing Mick can add to the long list of things he wasn’t expecting to be doing tonight as he finds himself moaning Charles’s name, babbling in three different languages, not all of which Charles can understand but it’s not like Mick’s making any sense anyway. By the time Charles gets one finger inside him, Mick is humping the bed, pushing his hips back because he needs _more_.

And then Charles pushes inside him slowly - _gently_ \- one hand on Mick’s hip, the other stroking down his back and Mick goes completely still. Having Charles inside him is overwhelming, he feels so _full_ and it takes him a moment to get used to this. Charles waits patiently until Mick relaxes again before pushing deeper and Mick moans when he bottoms out. He can feel every tiny move Charles makes and it’s so intimate and he doesn’t know why he hasn’t realised before, but it takes a lot of trust to let somebody do this.

Charles is very gentle at first but then Mick starts trying to fuck himself on Charles’s cock, begs him to go faster and Charles’s resolve breaks. Mick comes against the sheets, gasping Charles’s name, his hips still moving. Charles is very careful when he pulls out but it’s still weird -  the sudden empty feeling. Charles rubs himself off on Mick’s arse, cums all over his lower back and Mick moans weakly again when he feels his cock twitch even though he doesn’t think he’ll be able to get hard anytime soon.

Mick glances over his shoulder at Charles who’s still on his knees, straddling Mick. “I don’t know who that guy you used to fuck was.” He pants and Charles glances at him curiously. “But I wish him all the best because he’s done me a _huge_ favour.”

Charles grins naughtily. “I’ll tell him you said ‘thanks’.”

Mick whines in protest. “Charles!”

He wakes up to an empty bed, which is okay, he knew Charles had a flight back home early in the morning and it’s already past noon. But when he finds his phone, there’s a new message from Charles and it’s weird because he doesn’t remember giving him his number. He smiles widely when the words sink in:

**Sorry for not saying goodbye, didn’t want to wake you up. And your phone was unlocked so I figured I might as well give you my number. You know, in case you want to give me a call. Maybe later today? <3**


End file.
